The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night

Chapter 8 Apologize

　　"Don't rush to explain. I've got proof."

　　Claire cut Serena off before she could start crying, raised her hand slightly, and the two guys who were playing cards earlier pulled out their phones. They tapped on one and set it on the table—video and audio ready to go.

　　The video showed Claire walking into the room. The second she turned on the lights, the door behind her shut from the outside. She grabbed the handle and tried twisting it, but it wouldn't budge. Locked tight.

　　The clip was short—just thirty seconds—but enough to prove Claire had been set up. She didn't just stay upstairs on purpose, like Serena claimed; she was trapped.

　　Serena scrambled to deny it. "Claire, I have no idea why someone would lock you in there! I didn't follow you, I swear! There were so many people tonight, all kinds of folks, even random street thugs got in…"

　　And again, she turned the tables, making it sound like maybe Claire had made some kind of enemy and brought this on herself. With thugs in the room playing cards, who's to say Claire didn't bring them in herself?

　　Claire gave a cold smile. "What are you so nervous about? We're not done yet."

　　Another phone kicked on, this one playing an audio recording. As the voice came through, Serena's face turned ghostly white.

　　"This is 300,000. All cash, like you said. I'll give the other half after it's done. I just need her reputation ruined tonight…"

　　"Turn it off!"

　　Serena screamed, eyes wild, as she lunged and smashed the phone to bits.

　　But the damage was already done. The message was loud and clear.

　　So someone schemed to stage a scandal, and now it made sense why Serena insisted on bringing others along into the room.

　　Six hundred grand. That's what Serena paid to ruin a sister who wasn't even blood-related. Generous or petty—who could say?

　　Claire glanced at the shattered phone, tone light but mocking. "Feeling disappointed? The thugs you paid off… I actually knew them. Yeah, the same types you look down on. Poor, from the bottom, like me. Too bad they didn't manage to humiliate me in front of all these fancy people. That must really sting, huh?"

　　"Shut up!"

　　Serena completely lost it. She looked like she was having a breakdown, face twisted with rage.

　　"I am bitter! You stole my life! You're just some low-born nobody—what gives you the right to enjoy everything that belongs to me? You're nothing but a thief!"

　　Elena rushed over, wrapping Serena in a hug, crying with her. "It's all my fault… It's my fault for losing you when you were born. Don't blame others, Serena, don't hate them…"

　　Suddenly, all the judgmental stares toward Serena started to soften. People who had blamed her for going low now looked at her with sympathy.

　　If the switch hadn't happened, she'd be the real daughter of the Thompson family. She wouldn't have struggled all these years.

　　And Claire? Well, she wasn't assaulted or anything. She was standing there perfectly fine. Why keep pushing like this?

　　Too aggressive.

　　Claire caught those words like bait snapping the line.

　　She stood up slowly. Same face, same outfit—but right now, she looked like a completely different person. Calm. Cold.

　　Looking down at the mother and daughter holding each other, she said, "And what if I want an apology?"